


hello to our hopeless dream

by justicarwrites



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Almost Kiss, F/F, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:24:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justicarwrites/pseuds/justicarwrites
Summary: Zari has some difficulty with outdated technology. In Amaya's attempts to lend a hand, they find themselves on the precipice of something overwhelmingly righteous.Zari can't decide if she's ready to embrace it.or: the one about dress zippers, beautiful things, and the torture of "what ifs"





	hello to our hopeless dream

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for overdone tropes, tragic romance, and soulmates, so naturally this progressed from that. This is likely only the first of my fics for this pair, as they seem to have me in a chokehold and refuse to let me go, so please let me know what you think! I've love to hear your thoughts, comments, questions, etc. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

2042 wasn't the best of times. Between the oppressive military state and the desperate population often driven to violence over basic resources, life where Zari came from was mostly about just barely scraping by in order to survive.   
  
But 2042's lack of dress zippers to struggle with was a redeeming quality she never fully appreciated until she found herself aboard a time ship, awkwardly stumbling around in circles and trying to bend her arms backwards in ways they definitely weren't meant to. Of all the things she learned about the time before A.R.G.U.S. took power, that people were subjected to Olympic levels of physical exertion just to get dressed was never once mentioned.   
  
Going on ten minutes since her first attempt to zip herself up, she was frustrated, pathetically out of breath, and wondering why in the world people willingly put themselves through this. Another failed effort and she was about to accept that a piece of ridiculous fabric outsmarted her and walk out in a pair of jeans, convinced that the world would probably be better off in the long run if it were introduced to such fashion for women earlier anyway.   
  
Fortunately, Amaya's voice at the entrance to the fabrication room just barely saved history from such an alteration.   
  
"Hey, we're about to—”   
  
Zari turned to see her just long enough to briefly take in a flash of cream and an updo that no doubt did wonders for her jawline before shifting back as fast as someone would after accidentally looking directly at the sun.   
  
A flush spread across her cheeks and neck and for a time she was able to convince herself it was because of the workout she endured.   
  
Later, she'd agonize over the seconds between Amaya's initial words and when she started speaking again.    
  
"Sorry. I didn't realize you were still getting ready. I'll meet you on the bridge."    
  
"Wait! Do you think you could..." Zari gestured vaguely at her zipper and she heard Amaya approaching before she got the chance to finish the question.   
  
There was a tangible shift in the air as soon as she entered her space.   
  
It wasn't the first of their  _ moments _ .   
  
In truth, Zari had lost track of the number of times they shared looks that lasted seconds longer than they needed to, or stories about their pasts they usually reserved for those they loved for years, and weren't typically granted to random women they met through the most absurd of circumstances. When she let herself fully inhabit the feelings that threatened to erupt in her chest every time she caught Amaya's eyes on her when they had no reason to be, whispers of "connection" and "fate" and being "intertwined"  _ made sense _ and brought her comfort in a way that only something indisputably right could.   
  
More often than not and always when they weren't together, however, she found herself reexamining these interactions and reclassifying them into categories like "probably not what it seemed", "definitely had another explanation", and "don't be an idiot".   
  
The fact was, Zari had a well-thought out method for tackling the mental gymnastics necessary to write off everything that happened between her and Amaya. Life just didn't work in the way those moments made her feel. If her experiences taught her anything, it was that keeping beautiful things close by was a danger.   
  
And finding Amaya anything less than breathtakingly beautiful was turning out to be impossible for her.     
  
So Zari did what was necessary to convince herself that she was keeping her at arm's length, and most of the time that involved thinking about the looks, the smiles, and the trust between them in a way that made it all mean less than how it felt.   
  
In retrospect, she should have realized that letting Amaya so physically close to her would completely neutralize that tactic.   
  
Her hair was gently brushed over her shoulder. She became acutely aware of both the usual chill of ship and the heat of Amaya's proximity, and Zari couldn't pinpoint which sent the shiver down her spine.   
  
Where she came from, even personal space was a precious commodity, never to be taken lightly. Invasion of that space usually activated her fight or flight response. She couldn't recall the last time someone stood so close to her, and the realization that Amaya's presence felt less like an encroachment and more  like something righteous threatened to overwhelm her.    
  
Distrustful of her hands, she clenched at the looser sections of her dress below the waistline.   
  
Zari felt a tug just below the small of her back, and the gradual tightening sensation of the zipper's journey upwards.   
  
It was a miracle she managed to keep her balance.   
  
Suddenly relieved that the compartment had no mirror, unsure that she'd be able to properly cope with what she saw if she had a chance to take in the way Amaya looked at her, she fixed her eyes on a spot straight ahead and began counting the wall panels she could see.   
  
_ 1... 2... 3... 4... _   
  
This had to be the longest dress zipper in history.   
  
_ 5... 6... 7... _   
  
She didn't mind it in the slightest.   
  
_ 8... 9— _   
  
Her breath faltered when the back of Amaya's hand grazed her bare skin. Knowledge of numbers was replaced by a playback of the barely-there gasp that escaped Amaya's lips as it happened.    
  
The dress was fastened and Amaya left her hand pressed against the spot she used to tug the bottom of the zipper and Zari couldn't recall why she was wearing it.    
  
Briefly considering how embarrassing it would be for their totems to do that connection  _ thing _ while they were in such a position, she put truly valiant effort into explicating herself from the moment.   
  
"A—all set?" she made a mental note to fuss over the way her voice cracked later.   
  
"All set."   
  
Zari couldn't decide if she hated Amaya or really really didn't hate Amaya for not moving.   
  
"Thanks."   
  
Silence fell over the compartment and the longer they lingered the harder it was to break away. Somewhere along the way, the tension shifted into something comfortable. It was new but familiar, raw but tender, and her readiness to let all of it consume her should have been frightening.    
  
Instead, Zari remembered that there was a reason people coveted beautiful things.   
  
And she found the current lack of distance between her and Amaya very, very beautiful.   
  
She wanted to exist in the simplicity of how she felt then, without the need to overanalyze what it all really meant, or care for how ill-advised it would be to fall for a woman whose life was intended to take place a hundred years before her own. For fleeting seconds, everything was crystal clear, and she wanted quite ardently to hold onto that moment of clarity.   
  
"You look radiant."   
  
Amaya's voice was unwavering and her gaze was no doubt the same.    
  
Zari tried to minimize her reaction to the compliment, ducking her head and regarding her own outfit to hide the heat that rose to her cheeks.    
  
"You think? I've never really done this," she motioned all the way from her hair to the heels she wore.   
  
"I think it suits you."   
  
She looked over her shoulder at Amaya for the first time since she entered the room and her breath got caught in her chest.   
  
Amaya was stunning in a how-are-you-real way, only inches away from her, and seeming to undergo a crisis similar to her own. She felt a pull like what happened whenever their totems did that  _ thing _ they do, but rooted in something much deeper. She wasn't sure if this sort had everything or nothing to do with whatever mysticism surrounded their circumstances.   
  
Their eyes locked and they initiated a high-risk game of chicken. It was a challenge, a plea, and a question all at once.    
  
She heard Amaya swallow, and held her breath upon realizing just how thin the ice they were skating on was.   
  
Zari was still getting used to what it felt like to let herself want. She didn't think there were many experiences that could embody the feeling as much as that encounter.   
  
Someone lost their game, though she couldn't remember who. All she knew of the past, present, and future faded the second she noticed Amaya's eyes dropped to her lips.    
  
In that moment, Zari couldn't have spelled "resolve" if she tried.   
  
They were dangerously close to crossing a line, and inching ever-closer.   
  
The list of reasons why this wasn't happening, and shouldn't happen, was lost in the warmth that sprang from her chest and spread through every inch of her body.   
  
They were so close to kissing that Zari almost felt it, and they would have were the universe not a fundamentally dark and cruel place.   
  
Ray bounded into the fabrication room, clueless and eager as ever, his voice taking on a tone much too cheerful for how much Zari wanted to push him out of the ship's airlock.    
  
"You guys ready? We're about to head out."   
  
They sprang apart so quickly one would think their proximity burned, but Ray was none the wiser, if his full-faced smile was any indication. The interruption was sobering, and her gratitude for it grew as the reality to what almost happened set in.   
  
Through the denial of all that happened between them, she managed to build a glass box around Amaya. She was something untouchable, and the connection she spoke of unattainable.   
  
The almost-kiss shattered the glass, brought her closer than the thought processes she rehearsed convinced her was possible, and the undeniable fact that she wanted it to happen stopped its reformation.   
  
Beautiful things could be taken, and lost.   Zari spent much of her life trying to stop beautiful things from becoming too important to her.   
  
And pursuing a connection like this with a superhero from the 1940s dedicated to fulfilling her destiny of acting as the matriarch for an entire line of superheroes? Most of the time it felt like caring for something already lost.   
  
"We'll be r—”   
  
"Lead the way," she tried to miss the confusion and hurt that flashed over Amaya's face as she made a beeline for the door.   
  
Later, she'd pretend it didn't happen while playing it over in her head nightly, and Amaya would let her.  They'd fall back into their pattern of looks that lasted too long and smiles they only brought out in each other and stories they had no real cause to share, except this time with the constant undercurrent of the knowledge that it could all mean something more.   
  
Zari would find herself ruminating over how bad life could be had Ray walked in seconds later, taunted by the possibility that all the “what if” circumstances she imagined may be better than the in-between state they currently occupied.   
  
It wasn't often that Zari felt inspired to question her own judgment, especially when she made those calls in desperate acts of self-preservation. That fact spoke to either how naive she was about this situation, or how difficult it was to let go of how right it felt whenever she and Amaya were close.   
  
2042 had its faults, and many of them taught her lessons she probably never should have had to learn. But it didn't have occasions that made battles with dress zippers necessary, and there were few things she found beautiful enough to make her fear of missing out a proper contender for her reflex to run.

**Author's Note:**

> currently @amayazari on tumblr and @zarisvixen on twitter :)


End file.
